


Like a Kitten

by PeriPeriwinkle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff, High Dragon fighting, M/M, Purring, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5027209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeriPeriwinkle/pseuds/PeriPeriwinkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tale of That One Time when Bull and Dorian finally fought a hig dragon in a quest with the Chargers, and Dorian is both pleased and curious about the intriguing rumbling noises Bull makes during and after the fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> **Adoribull Sunday Prompt: the first time Dorian ever heard Bull purr was after a fight with a dragon and he was just so amazed and curious that he wanted to know more about it!! but he asked EVERYONE ELSE first if they knew what the heck kinda noise he was making bc he was too embarrassed to ask Bull**
> 
>  
> 
> To the anon who requested it: I hope it's to your liking!!!
> 
> Now on to the fic!
> 
> \---

“There he goes!” Screams Dalish, and Dorian turns his head in time to see Bull dashing towards the stunned high dragon before them. He swears he sees a slight hop on each and every one of Bull’s hurried steps, and grins.

Krem joins Bull with a sigh and a wave of his head, obviously more than used to it, and Dorian casts his spells from a distance as usual, making sure to avoid hitting either man with friendly fire. The dragon is ferocious and majestic, her scales glowing under the sun like she’s covered from head to tail in sharp emeralds and amethysts, and when her teeth snap close, nearly _too close_ to Bull’s arm he hears the qunari laugh loudly, happy and filled with adrenalin at the challenge, and Dorian notes the weird rumbling vibration on Bull’s voice, right beneath the laugher, that the mage can’t quite identify from so far away, and it makes him frown.

It’s against his instincts, knows that if the dragon realizes that Dorian’s in reachable range he’ll be mightily fucked, but Doran comes closer anyway, using the barrier he casts at the right moment to protect Krem of a fireball as his excuse, both for himself and whoever else asks. Krem responds by leaping and digging his massive mace onto the dragon’s jaw, making her screech and the bones crack, and again, Bull makes that sound, that weird and low and constant roaring, and from where he is Dorian sees the pleasant shiver going through Bull’s body, the slight tent on the front of his pants.

Dorian knows that Bull likes dragons, that the mere thought of going on a mission which would probably have a high dragon on it is enough to make the man giddy with excitement all day and deflated with disappointment by the time they made their return, but it’s the first time they’ve actually _found_ an actual high dragon instead of dragonlings or only just human sized dragons. Bull laughed so hard and smiled so wide at the sight of her that one would’ve thought someone had finally declared world peace – and even then Dorian doubts they’d ever get the same reaction from the qunari.

Jump, dive, dodge, _attack_ – Bull’s movements are precise and controlled, and it almost reminds Dorian of his own calculated movements when he’s in a one-to-one fight, and pride flares up in his chest. He throws another freezing spell that successfully freezes the dragon for a few seconds, and while he downs his third mana potion he sees Krem and Bull smashing the ice as fast as they can, glittering scales mingled with blood falling to the floor and thawing on the grass. She’s nearly down, multiple of Skinner’s arrows on both her eyes, blood and gore dripping everywhere – even over Dorian, much to his dismay, but given the proximity he’s in he knew that was one of the many risks he took – and she’s getting slower, her movements more erratic, her aim completely off now she’s blind. He feels bad for her, but what is done is done, and he throws a fireball onto her gaping mouth to finish the fight.

She tumbles back, her final scream muffled by the fire that destroys her throat, and Krem steps away, allowing her limbs to flop down, and Dorian, for a second, expects Bull to do the same, but _no_ – the man runs forward, climbs her neck, throws his arms all the way back with a flourish, _of course_ , and sinks the axe onto her throat, blood splattering over his torso and a final spasm indicating that the dragon is finally dead making him release his weapon and roar out, animalistic and almost gleefully, a huge smile crossing across his bloody lips.

It’s a brute and savage sight, that’s for sure, but it’s quite the view as well, Dorian thinks.

He approaches the body of the dragon, offering a hand to his lover to step down from the creature’s body, and Bull gladly takes it, slowly sliding down to the floor. This up close he sees that, _yes_ , that _is_ quite the boner Bull is sporting underneath his trousers, and although the qunari is quiet Dorian hears a rumbling noise coming from deep his chest. Bull is grinning down, a lazy upturn of his lips, showing his exhaustion in a way that Dorian only sees in his lover’s face after sex, and it’s only one of the many telltales of how much he thoroughly enjoyed the battle. Dorian makes a mental note of it, cataloguing all the little details in a checklist in his head, and when he puts his hand over Bull’s shoulder, near his neck, Dorian feels it _vibrating_. Bull’s eye flutter, his whole body inching closer to Dorian with just this slight contact, and Dorian hears the noise gradually growing louder, the vibration getting stronger beneath his hand.

“That was quite a fight, Amatus.” Dorian whispers, his voice deep and sultry on purpose, and Bull licks his bloody lips, approaching the mage yet hesitating when they’re merely inches apart from each other, a strong hand wrapping around the arm that is touching his neck, a sing that shows he’s desperate. Bull knows better than to smear blood on Dorian’s robes, and is with a smile that Dorian notices how his lover _struggles_ not to break one of Dorian’s most important rule. “You looked positively _ravishing_.”

“ _Kadan_ ,” is all Bull manages, voice strained and rough, and he leans down to capture Dorian’s lips with his own, and robes be damned, Dorian thinks, closing the distance between them, the hand holding his neck gripping the muscles tightly and the other wrapping around the man’s chest. Bull moans and takes that as a sign that he’s allowed to wrap his slick hands around Dorian, one caching on his hair and the other clinging to the back of the mage’s shoulder. Dorian knows he’s going to be spending the best part of the evening rubbing himself and his robes clean, but at that moment, with the qunari pliant under his touches, melting against his form, erection hard against the mage’s thigh and mouth sloppy and hot and uncoordinated, but best of all, with the man’s upper body positively _rumbling_ against Dorian like a content kitten, he feels like he doesn’t mind it in the least.

His audience begins to cheer after the touches and kisses start to linger for too long, snapping both men out from their own little world, but neither of them even care enough to look sheepish about it. Krem is grinning, like he saw that happening, Dalish and Skinner are hooting and hollering, and Stitches is chuckling while he looks after a burn mark on Rocky’s shoulder, the dwarve's face red and pointedly looking the other way.

Dorian had a feeling the Chargers would be setting their own tents as far as physically possible from Bull’s once they were back in camp.

\--

Dorian could say for sure that the evening after they slayed the high dragon was both the most amazing sex he’d ever had, and also the most _intriguing_. They started early, at the creek near the camp, where they washed off the worse of the grime and blood off their skin, naked bodies warming each other up from the frigid current water, then they went on for hours on end over their bed rolls until both were so exhausted and their throats were so raw neither could muster up the energy to utter another word. Afterwards, when Dorian was stroking Bull’s skin in their content exhaustion, head pillowed on a soft pectoral, he could hear as clear as daylight the delightful sound he was now convinced enough to call _purring_ coming from deep within his lover’s chest, even though he couldn’t tell _where_ ; somewhere behind the ribcage, upwards towards the throat maybe, and although it made him curious Dorian didn’t dare ask, nor did he comment on it the entire evening. He felt embarrassed to do it, for some reason, although the scholar part of him begged and screamed to find out exactly Bull was even _doing_.

Given, though, how the man had enjoyed himself, the purring never stopping even during the moments when Bull was more than just a little distracted by Dorian’s ministrations, the mage decided that it was definitely not a bad thing, and told himself not to dwell on it too long for the time being, allowing himself to be lulled to sleep by his lover’s heartbeat.

Once back at Skyhold and back to their regular routine though, Dorian wondered. He asked Josephine for research books on anything qunari, but especially medical anatomy, and although his cheeks flushed and the woman grinned knowingly, she nodded and didn’t tease him about it, a small mercy for which he was glad. They arrived a week later, half a dozen books total - one of them illustrated, which highly pleased Dorian, and another a _romance_ , a tattered thing apparently written by a Tal-Vashot, the only book written in common. Despite the fact that Dorian had been studying Qunlat he didn’t know nearly enough of the language to manage to read the books he now had without having to stop to translate every single five words, a task that would take him several weeks at the very least – far too long for his likings.

He looked at the romance. It wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for but it could maybe prove useful, Dorian decided, picking it up and settling back on his chair. He could use the pause on his research to indulge in some reading.

\--

 _Horrifying_ was the tamest word Dorian could come up with.

It’s not that the story itself was bad, but whoever wrote the book had very little depth in their vocabulary to actually make the reading somewhat pleasant, and the love scenes consequently were awkward to the point of being cringe worthy. And there were a lot of those scenes. _A lot_.

Midway through with the book, when the author had repeated the word “cock” three times in a row in a five lines sentence, Dorian decided he’d had quite enough, thankyoueversomuch. Thus far there had been no mentions of the weird purring-like sound between the star-crossed qunari lovers anyway, and Dorian couldn’t tell if that was because the author had no words to describe it so they skipped that detail altogether of if the qunari portrayed in the tome just didn’t have the ability to make the sound in the first place.

He skimmed the illustrated anatomy book, stopping at the very detailed pictures of the insides of the throat and the chest of a qunari, and Dorian quickly translated every single word on the pages, but found nothing different, nothing that a healer wouldn’t usually find in an elven, human or dwarven body.

By the time he gave up on his research the night sky was glittering with stars, the moon and the candle next to his papers the only thing illuminating his cozy alcove. Given the lack of sounds, Dorian figured he’d missed dinner - again - and he’d nothing to show for his entire day, which made him sigh and slump back in his armchair.

He had only one option left.

 _The Chargers_.

\--

“Cremisius.”

“Pavus.”

“Do you have a moment? There is something I’d like to discuss with you, if you wouldn’t mind.” Dorian asks, gesturing towards the chantry gardens, away from the crowd training in the open courtyard and, hopefully, away from Bull’s prying eyes and sharp ears. Krem sheaths his sword and sets down his wooden shield, nodding and following Dorian as the mage begins to walk.

“Shoot. What’s bothering you, Altus?” The man asks, clasping his hands behind his back in a nearly perfect copy to Dorian’s own relaxed pose. Dorian had thought about how to form the words he wants to say in a cohesive manner, but decides on being blunt rather than skirt around the subject any further.

“Do you recall the fight we had with the high dragon two weeks ago?” Dorian asks, lowly, and Krem chuckles.

“Of course I do. The chief was so happy the Inquisitor let him keep some of her scales he couldn’t stop gloating about them for _days_. What a child.”

“Indeed,” Dorian smiles, waving his head. “But I was wondering... if, ah, did you maybe hear...”

“What, you two shagging until nearly sunrise? Believe me, Pavus, the whole Maker damned forest could hear it. Thanks for that, by the way, I’d nearly managed to forget about it.”

“Ah,” Dorian breathes out, clearing his throat as his face heats up slightly. “Do forgive me, I was not... _quite myself_ that evening. But that’s not what I mean, exactly.”

“‘Exactly’, which means it’s _almost_ what you mean.” Dorian curses under his breath at the man’s sharpness. A Tevinter and one of Bull’s men, through and through, Dorian thinks, and Krem grins victoriously. “What, do you mean the chief’s _purring_?”

“ _Yes_!” The mage exclaims, startled, stopping on his tracks and looking around with wide eyes to make sure no one saw his small outburst. Luckily, they’re both alone, and he looks back at Krem with a glint in his eyes. “Yes, _that_. I’d never heard anything like it coming from Bull, not before and not since then. Was it actually...?”

Krem shrugs. “Not really, according to the chief, at least. But yeah, he _always_ purrs like a kitten when he’s fighting a dragon, blushes like a damsel when we tease him about it. Dalish thinks it’s cute.” And by the grin on the lieutenant’s face, _he_ did too, but Dorian knew not to mention it if he wanted the soporati to keep talking. “We’ve asked him about it before and he says it’s a qunari thing, like a gland on his throat that supposedly vibrates or some shit when he’s happy out of his mind, but he learned to control it when he was being trained to be Ben-Hassrath. Can’t do much about it when he’s up against high dragons though. You know how he is with them.”

At Dorian’s affirmative nod, Krem continues. “I’d figured he didn’t do it around you, though. Old habits are hard to break. Did you know he can also twitch his ears, like Dalish?”

“Truly?” Dorian asks, mildly surprised, and Krem nods, smiling deviously.

“Yup. Another thing Ben-Hassraths trained right out of him. Shame. It’d be pretty fucking funny if he still did that.”

Dorian just looked ahead at a random tree, not knowing how to reply. Eventually he thanked the man and parted ways with him, retiring to his room. He has _much_ to think about.

\--

Dorian knows he can’t hold it back much longer, so he decides to get it over with as soon as possible.

“So. You can _purr_.”

Bull tenses beneath his embrace, both men sweaty and sated after their second round of sex. Dorian giggles and presses a kiss to his lover’s neck, nibbling at the salty flesh, making Bull hum.

“I don’t _purr_ ,” Bull protests, his voice sounding almost whiny, and Dorian smiles, licking a patch of skin up to the qunari’s chin, scratching his lips on the short stubble there. “ _Fuck_. I was wondering when you’d ask about that.”

“Okay, then what should I call the noise you were making that day, Amatus? What do _you_ call it in Qunlat?”

Bull sighs, shifting slightly as Dorian keeps nibbling wherever and whatever he can reach to get the man beneath him to relax again. He allows Bull as much time as he needs to think, hands scratching and smoothing over his chest in what he hopes is soothing and not distracting. Or rather, not _too_ distracting, at least.

“We call it _taash-kost_ ,” Bull sighs out, looking into Dorian’s eyes. “It’s a gland near our vocal chords, and the name loosely translates to something like ‘calm peace’. Basically when we’re very happy and relaxed and satisfied it reacts by pulsing rapidly. It’s the way we express that state of mind.”

“I’ve never heard you making that sound when we’re together,” Dorian whispers, trying to school his face into something neutral instead of whatever he’s feeling. Worry, apprehension, insecurity. Is Bull never relaxed enough with Dorian that he can’t bring himself to do it? But he remembers Krem’s words, _old habits die hard_ , and bites his lip, feeling guilty for allowing himself to feel that way. Bull was _trained_ to suppress this, to avoid at all costs showing this part of him to anyone for years and years on end, and it’s not fair to make it about him. Bull only grins in response, thumbs the plump lip free from Dorian’s teeth, placing a gentle kiss above the now reddish patch of skin, and Dorian _feels it_.

Slowly, slowly, the vibrations start up, like the small roar of an animal muffled beneath a pile of blankets. Dorian widens his eyes and looks at Bull, schooling his expression be damned, and Bull smiles in earnest, kissing him again.

“It’s a sign of weakness amongst adults under the Qun, especially to those being trained to be Ben-Hassrath. We can’t show our weaknesses, _ever_. I’ve always repressed it, since I was a kid, and I’m so used to doing it I always forget I can just let it go when I’m around you, Kadan.” He whispers, voice kind and smooth like velvet, and Dorian presses closer, feeling the sensation of the sound reverberating inside and around Bull’s chest spreading through his limbs, making him melt happily against his lover. “I always let it go when I’m fighting high dragons because... _shit_ , the adrenalin mixed with the strain in my muscles, the smell of her blood... it’s always too much for me, I can never help it. Doesn’t mean I like you less than I do dragons, though.”

“Yes, it does,” Dorian laughs teasingly, and Bull laughs back, kissing the top of the mage’s head and wrapping both arms tightly around him.

“Okay, maybe a little.”


End file.
